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Misplaced Lens Cap
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@kathleenzhao
@jeanpalfroix Event: Valentine's Day 2026.
"Someone's looking fancy tonight," the Vixen mused, reaching out to adjust his tie. The wrinkle of her nose suggested it was wonky, but it wasn't. Kathleen just felt like being a professional irritant. "And only one conspicuous drug-related date on the menu. Colour me impressed. You and the guys are finally evolving."
@vinnievespucci Event: Valentine's Day 2026.
"Well, well. The mysterious and reclusive Vincenzo Vespucci surfaces..." Of course, she was only teasing. Sort of. That didn't stop her from announcing his presence as though she were narrating a nature documentary, though. Was it really Kathleen if she wasn't being a little bit dramatic? No. "You don't call, you don't write... What did I do to deserve such callous abandonment, hm?"
Kathleen Zhao attends Valentine’s Day @ The Barbican Centre. Date: Friday, February 13th, 2026. Escorted By: Francisco Vidal.
FOR: @mobscene-starters WHEN: January, 2026. WHERE: Upscale bar, South Kensington. EXT. Evening. Balcony.
"Hmm." Odile's head shifts. "It's giving Blair Waldorf, 2007. Which is… a choice."
"Thank God we have cards that afford us better." She was drunk. One too many glasses, and the cool air was keeping her grounded.
"Perpetually stuck in high school, after all this time?" Some things never changed, clearly. How pitiful. "Like a shark who dies if it stops swimming, you just can't function without dragging down other women. Going to try and sleep with her boyfriend, next? Will that make you feel even more superior?"
"Well, now I hope they do. I want to go just to try it now. Though, they could use American baked beans and that would just be a culinary crime." Not that Carla has developed a taste for beans on toast herself. American beans were too ingrained in her brain and every time she looked at them, she expected to taste barbecue. "You have my sincerest condolences for what you have to put up with, though." At least Carla had her mom's cooking whenever she wanted a taste of home.
"This is why I spend so much time at Vespucci's. At least I know the food there isn't going to kill me. The people? Maybe. But the carbonara? Never."
Not to mention that being around the Italians always made it feel a little more like home. A little less like the whole city could fall apart at any moment...
"Culinary catastrophes aside, are you settling in okay? As someone who's been here a lot longer, I promise it's not so bad once you get used to all the rain. And the people being miserable. And the tea alarm."
Ni Ni Dongji Rescue European Premiere
Ⓐ
Attractiveness:
repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || sexy || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || would tap that || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words
Personality:
grating || irritating || frustrating || boring || confusing at best || awkward || unreasonable || psychotic || disturbing || interesting || engaging || affectionate || aggressive || ambitious || anxious || artistic || bad tempered || bossy || charismatic || appealing || unappealing || creative || courageous || dependable || unreliable || unpredictable || predictable || devious || dim || extroverted || introverted || egotistical || gregarious || fabulous || impulsive || intelligent || sympathetic || talkative || up beat || peaceful || calming || badass || flexible
How likely they would have sex with them:
not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending || fuck no! || never || no way || not likely || not sure || indifferent || I’m asexual || maybe || probably || it depends || fairly likely || likely || yeah sure || yes || would tap that || hell yes || fuck yes! || wishing that could happen right now || as many times as possible || we are already having had sex
Level of Friendship:
never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends || good friends || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends || my only friend ||
First impression of them:
I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them
Current impression of them:
I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them
How good of a kisser:
worst kisser ever || terrible || bad || awkward || just okay || alright || pretty good || good || makes me moan || excellent || exciting || oh god they’re good || I dream about it || fucking amazing || absolute perfection || we haven’t kissed
@mobscene-starters Location: Vixen Date: 9/1/2026.
London felt...eerily calm.
In recent memory, she couldn't remember a year where Christmas, or worse, New Year, wasn't marred by death and destruction of some description. Yet 2025 had bled (okay, poor choice of words) into 2026 without a news broadcast about someone being beheaded and tossed into a crowd, and she could scarcely believe it.
Quiet before the storm, though. She knew better than to assume these people were finally starting to act like...well, people.
Kathleen had finished up her Friday night evening shift at the club, and was spending her usual post-routine half an hour with the French before she would eventually depart. They didn't seem to be on edge. Then again, maybe it was hard to tell on edge from fucked up when they were on that much cocaine.
The doors to the club opened, though, and a small group of men wandered in. Familiar, though she didn't think it was because they were frequent patrons of the place. One of the Frenchmen gathered around the table seemed to bristle, as if he, too, sensed familiarity. Then she spotted one. A Russian.
"Is this about to be a problem?" she murmured to the French who seemed to be gearing up as though they thought it might.
Date: 18 December, 2025 Open to: @mobscene-starters
"No matter how long I live here, I'm never getting used to Chinese food coming with fries." Carla wiped her hand on a napkin and chuckled under her breath. "Sorry, I mean chips.
Though she wouldn't deny the Chinese food here was a little better here than back in the States—especially in Chinatown—and she was grateful she didn't ever have to see another fucking egg roll again, the Brits sure did have some odd combinations. The chips were the least of the problems.
"Yeah. Imagine how I feel." Kathleen grimaced. The woman had met Carla before, though only briefly, thanks to her connections with the Auditore family. Enough that she felt comfortable enough engaging her in conversation in the middle of an unsurprisingly empty restaurant, at least. "Do you think they have restaurants in China that sell beans on toast with deep fried crickets on the side? Is this 'fusion' cuisine?"
Ⓐ
Attractiveness:
repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || sexy || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || would tap that || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words
Personality:
grating || irritating || frustrating || boring || confusing at best || awkward || unreasonable || psychotic || disturbing || interesting || engaging || affectionate || aggressive || ambitious || anxious || artistic || bad tempered || bossy || charismatic || appealing || unappealing || creative || courageous || dependable || unreliable || unpredictable || predictable || devious || dim || extroverted || introverted || egotistical || gregarious || fabulous || impulsive || intelligent || sympathetic || talkative || up beat || peaceful || calming || badass || flexible
How likely they would have sex with them:
not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending || fuck no! || never || no way || not likely || not sure || indifferent || I’m asexual || maybe || probably || it depends || fairly likely || likely || yeah sure || yes || would tap that || hell yes || fuck yes! || wishing that could happen right now || as many times as possible || we are already having had sex
Level of Friendship:
never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends || good friends || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends || my only friend ||
First impression of them:
I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them
Current impression of them:
I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them
How good of a kisser:
worst kisser ever || terrible || bad || awkward || just okay || alright || pretty good || good || makes me moan || excellent || exciting || oh god they’re good || I dream about it || fucking amazing || absolute perfection || we haven’t kissed
where: heading to a bar close to mistral's who: @kathleenzhao when: 21/08/24
Maria desperately needed a night out with Kathleen. The two of them had dressed up and their ride dropped them off a block away from where they were going to have a few drinks to start the night. "I'm looking forward to tonight." A smile forms on her lips, catching sight of a small crowd ahead, one French man would always stick out to her.
"Isn't that Varden?" She turns to look at Kathleen, seconds later, screams fill the air and when she turns back to look at the scene, the sound of bullets echo through the street. Panic seeps into the vixen, instantly reaching for her friend and pulling them down to the ground, flashes of porto popping into her head and she feels herself start to freeze.
"You and me both..."
It was hard to mask the sigh that slipped from her as she glanced down at her phone, though. Still no response from Sofie, despite the fact she had been invited out tonight. It was so rare the three of them shared time off that Kathleen was hoping they could make the most of it. Her finger hovered over the call beside her name until the sound of her friend's voice caught her attention.
"Probably. If they're not at Vixen or AU, they're usually at—"
Before she could finish the thought, though, or even properly react to what was happening, Maria had dragged them both down to the floor. Kathleen probably would've ducked into a nearby building, personally, but she supposed the woman was acting on instinct. The Vixen let out a yelp as she scuffed her knee against the pavement, trying to keep her head tucked down and out of sight.
Great. Who the fuck was it this time? Was it New Year and nobody told her?
Kathleen peered around the corner of the bin, realising that she could see Yves now amongst the fleeing crowd, and it appeared he had his own gun drawn. Had they started it, or was someone shooting at them..? Shit, shit, shit.
"We can't stay here, Maria. We have to try and get inside." Difficult to manage when she couldn't even tell where the other side was shooting from. "Are you good?"
That damn voice still sent a momentary flutter through his heart even though his head had long since given up on Kathleen Zhao. At least the word soccer stopped that flutter dead in its tracks.
"Now, Kathleen, I know you've been a Vixen long enough to know that being nice to the English goes against our very nature." He accepted his drink and took a sip. "And it's football, you American heathen."
He led the way away from the bar and the mass of people pushing in, trying to catch the bartender's attention to a slightly quieter patch of street. Emphasis on slightly.
"Flying solo today?"
Even though she rolled her eyes teasingly at his response, it wasn't unexpected. They sure did despise the English. At first, she'd thought it was just because of the Rutherfords, but Kathleen had soon learnt it was a cultural exchange very much mutual on the part of the Brits. People like Olivier must have been having an existential fucking crisis. Mental note, then, to take the piss out of him extra...
"I am, indeed. They were having a soccer night. No girls allowed, apparently."
After thanking the bartender for what could've been her eightieth drink of the night (she'd lost count) the Vixen followed behind her favourite Frenchman. It would be a lie to say she wasn't a little grateful to be away from the crowd.
"Please tell me you're at least more sober than Varden. I tried to have a conversation with him, and I'm not sure if he was slurring his words because of the alcohol or because he's old enough to be in the danger zone for a stroke."
Where: French Quarter When: July 14, 2024 Who: @mobscene-starters
Ayda was putting the doubt behind her. If she was going to take a step out in a political manner, then she was going to have to be bold in who she was. Mistakes were made and she had every intention of making good on them when the time came.
She had always been curious about Bastille Day, dressing in a nice summer dress, Ayda made her way over to the French Quarter. Some of the closest people in her life at the moment were French and she wanted to celebrate this day with them.
Moving around the crowd of people, she came across a stand selling cheese, and the man kept offering her a glass of wine with it, and not wanting to be rude, she thanked him, turning to the person next to her.
"Did you want this? I don't drink."
"Oh, I absolutely always want wine. Thank you so much."
Well, it wasn't as if she was going to say no. Usually, she wouldn't even consider taking a drink from a stranger, but she looked enough like a naïve little deer that she doubted the offer was anything nefarious. Even if it was spiked, the dancer still wouldn't have been as drugged up as seventy per cent of the other attendees. Kathleen offered a grateful smile to the woman as she took a hold of the glass.
"On a serious note, though, if you plan on spending any extended amount of time around the French, you might want to start. It helps. A lot."
Location: French Quarter Date: July 14, 2024
@mobscene-starters
Even England winning the Euros (which it was still bullshit that England made it to the finals and France didn't) could do nothing to diminish Jean's mood as he took in the festivities. The English could have their little victory, the French had culture and would be making it all of London's problem for the day.
He'd long since lost track of how many drinks he'd had, or even who he was dancing with at this point. Paris was a shithole, but there was no stopping a French man from enjoying his national pride. Unless his drink ran out. Jean frowned at his empty cup and pushed his way through the crowd to the nearest bar for a refill. What was the point if he could still remember this day tomorrow?
Once the bartender set to work pouring another drink, Jean leaned back against the bar and turned his head to look at the person beside him. "Vive le France and fuck the English."
No, she wasn't here for the French. Not that she would tell them that, of course, when they'd been the ones to encourage her attendance in the first place.
Kathleen was absolutely there for the food.
French cuisine might've been overrated, but amazingly, she could find new appreciation for just about anything when it was free. The wine was good, though. The wine was very fucking good. As was very much in character for her, she'd spent much of the evening thus far tormenting the French bros as she awaited the fireworks, and as she sidled up to Jean, he would be no exception to her onslaught.
"You know, you could be a little nicer. They let you shut down the street for this little party of yours. Don't be salty because they won the soccer and you guys crashed and burned. Bitterness will make you look old, Jean."
@kathleenzhao
As he went into their bedroom, Vidal gently placed the covers over Kathleen, careful to try not to wake her. It was still early, but he hardly had gotten any sleep and was heading out in a few minutes. "Hey, sleep, it's alright." He didn't want to worry her, but Francisco also knew there was no way of hiding of what he was really feeling. The anger, the fear, the unknown of it all. It was all in the pits of his stomach, brewing for what felt like dread. "I don't know when I'll come back." As always, he didn't want to give her empty promises. Didn't want her waiting up, making herself go crazy.
Even more so of late, Kathleen wasn't sleeping well; it didn't take much to disturb her, and his sudden return to their bed was no exception. After a heavy exhale, her eyes finally opened enough to focus on his silhouette.
Things were bad. Really fucking bad.
"It's okay," she said groggily, knowing, after their many discussions about his reservations, that he didn't want to instil any false hope that he'd be back later. The Rutherfords had a solid set of priorities right now. Holding London together, and finding Gianna. As she happened to be quite fond of both, she couldn't even pretend to be put out by the idea of him helping. "Please just try and be careful."
After a moment, she propped a body which begrudged every movement up against the headboard. Didn't begrudge feeling her way across the blankets to his hand, though.
"Did you get the Capo's number from Dante? If you need anything, please call him. They will back you up when it comes to her without hesitation."
ni ni x iqiyi scream night
